How To Save A Life
by The Trishster
Summary: [1SHoT] He didn't know. [they never do.] It's all his fault. [he screws everything up.] Now, he's stuck with a secret. [and a heart full of torment.]


**Author's Note: Yo, people. It's been a while since I've posted a fic. Well, have no fear! Here you go! A little something before I start school. Written in one day and completely off the top of my head(writer's block GONE!). Oh, and inspired by "How To Save A Life" by The Fray. I didn't realize who was who in this story until very late in the writing process. And it's my first try at angst AND tragedy...or something like that. Hit two birds with one stone! So...yeah. Read and Review, please!**

**P.S. Kaiora if you freakin' squint.**

**P.S.S. The italics issue has finally been resolved. It was beginning to annoy me, so I decided to finally fix it. I also fixed some other minor details.**

_**-------------------------------**_

_**Where did I go wrong?**_

--X--o--X--

It was strange. It was surreal. Or, maybe, it was more real than it should have been. He wondered why nobody had ever noticed, why no one had even suspected this to happen. And if somebody did know about this incident before it happened, he wanted to know why they did not do anything to prevent it. The pain, the tears, the questions, the accusations-- so much that none of them had to go through. And yet, they were. Why? What other choice did they have?

**I lost a friend**

--X--o--X--

Now, he sits on the old beat-up couch in his living room, finding himself absentmindedly whispering comforting words into the ear of the young girl that he is holding in his arms. She is taking the situation hard, as she should. He gently strokes her maroon-colored hair, her tears soaking through his shirt as she buries her face in his chest. He realizes what a mess this is. No person, especially her, should have to go through such heartache. He hesitates a second before hugging her tighter, a sudden need to keep her close to him arising. She proceeds to cry harder and he lets her do just that. Who is he to tell her to suck it up and get over it?

"...I don't understand. Why didn't I see it?" she murmurs sadly.

"Why didn't anybody see it?" he replies. "Everyone was too caught up in their own agendas to notice."

"B-but we were his friends. His best friends! We of all people should have seen what was going on!"

"Don't blame yourself. You didn't do anything wrong. What happened...happened."

She inhales quickly before answering. "I wish I could have..." He embraces her tightly before she breaks down again. As if on cue, the tears fall down her pale face and he cannot bare to look at her a second longer. He places his chin on top of her head, again muttering something, anything that will help alleviate the pain. But he knows all too well that no amount of "Everything will be all right"s will make her heart stop aching. He knows firsthand. His own heart was crumbling with every hushed word he spoke to her. And not even because of the horrible tragedy. There are much worse things than a dead man.

**Somewhere along in the bitterness**

--X--o--X--

He manages to lull her to a fitful slumber. He knows that she will surely have nightmares and he doubts she will sleep for long, anyway. He steps outside onto the front porch. Ironically enough, the rain is pouring, a perfect match to this melancholy mood. He looks around. Everything in his sight is grey and dreary. Not a sign of happiness to be found. All he found was rain. He glances both left and right before stepping further out onto the porch. He sighs as the rain pounds on his head and soaks through his clothes. The incident was still fresh in his mind, not quite ready to settle down. He had yet to mourn himself, as he has been busy trying to soothe his female friend to no avail. And now, as he stands in the freezing rain, head bowed and both hands in his back pockets, he decides that this is better a time than never to come to terms with this tragedy. It was at that moment that he realizes just how much he loves the rain. Nobody can tell when you're crying.

**And I would have stayed up with you all night**

--X--o--X--

He walks back inside, soaking wet from head to toe. He doesn't care. The events from outside had done little to relieve him of the pain he was harbouring. He trudges up the stairs to his bedroom, finding the redhead exactly where he had left her: asleep on his bed. He feels as if a knife has been shoved into his chest, piercing his heart. He chuckles inwardly at the irony of this. He cannot bear to stare at her anymore and descends the stairs again, returning to the living room. He plops down on the couch and sits there in silence. He thinks of the situation he is in, of the events that have happened. He ponders the secrets he is keeping, not only from his best friend, but from everyone else, as well. If they were to ever find out...he shudders at the thought. He changes the subject and begins to wonder why she blames herself for what happened. He knows she is innocent. How does he know?

Because he is the guilty party.

The last to speak to him before it happened, he is more at fault than anybody else. And he blames himself for it. He remembers everything, crystal clear. A bit more clearly than he would have liked.

* * *

"_Hey. What's going on?" he asks. After a few seconds of silence, he realizes that he is not going to receive an answer. He clears his throat as he advances through the junk-filled room toward his friend. He manages to find a seat on the edge of his friend's bed. He clasps his hands together and stares at them for a second._

"_We've gotta talk." He gets an ice cold stare as his companion begins to stand. He reaches over and grabs hold of his close friend's sleeve. "Sit down. It's just a talk." The young man pauses before taking back his seat on the floor. "Look, I...I was just wondering. What's been going on with you lately?" He knows he will not be getting a reply, so he continues. "I mean, 'cause every time I see you, it seems like you've always got this blank stare in your eyes. A-and you don't smile anymore. Heck, you don't even make all those sarcastic comments like you used to." He inhales. "Are you okay?"_

"_No. No, I'm not okay. I never will be." he spits out._

"_Hold on a second! Why not? What's wrong?" The young man glares at him silently._

"_You want to know what's wrong?" He nods. "I'll tell you what's wrong." He reaches over to his nightstand, picks up a picture frame, and throws it across the room. It smashes against the opposite wall, the glass shattering on impact. The frame falls to the carpeted floor, fragments of sharp glass surrounding it. He begins to breathe heavily as he stares at the result of his outburst. "Everything."_

_Though caught off-guard, he is not fazed by his pal's loss of control. "W-well...let me help you. I hate seeing you like this all the time. And besides," he stops and smiles. "what are friends for?" The grin fades when it is not returned._

"_You know what?"_

"_What?"_

_But the question is left unanswered, hanging in the air. He begins to feel anxious. He thinks something is not right with this, though he assumes that it must be because of his friend's sad behaviour. He ignores the little voice in the back of his mind who is screaming, telling him that something else, something much worse, is wrong._

"_Riku?" he calls. "You okay? Riku?" No reply. "...okay. I'll go. B-but, I'm stopping by tomorrow afternoon. I'm going to help you get out of this...this...whatever this is, if it's the last thing I do!" And with this, he gets up and strides toward the door, the tiny voice still screaming for him to turn back._

* * *

He blames himself for what happened. He knew something was going to occur before it ever did. He did nothing to stop it. He is solely to blame and he knows better than to deny it.

He silently curses himself for crying. There is not any rain for him to hide behind to cover up his tears. He hastily wipes them away.

He curses himself again for not turning back.

Before he can curse himself a third time, he hears the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Kairi is awake. He gains his composure as she peeks her head through the doorway. Catching sight of him, she walks into the room and immediately falls into his arms. He catches her and listens as she mumbles something.

"I had a terrible nightmare, Sora. I dreamt that I had killed Riku. And then everyone was blaming me for it. And everyone hated me. It was awful!" He holds her firmly in his grip.

"Don't worry, Kairi. It's not your fault."

He silently adds:

'It's mine.'

**Had I known how to save a life **

--X--o--X--

* * *

**Author's Note: Okay, so it's not awesome. But, not bad for a first try, don't you think? And the whole "It's all my fault because I didn't do blah blah blah" was cool to write about. I think I skipped around a little. But I wrote differently than I normally would so... Hm. So, tell my what you think! No more angsty tragedy crap for me or what? Constructive Criticism please! Flames will be used to fry bacon!**

**--Trish**


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